Broaden Your Horizons,Que vous le vouliez ou non
by Hotnesspecter88
Summary: France desires Japan, who's visiting the Allied powers to learn of their cultures to expand his own. Kiku is unwilling to accept Francis's rather uncouth methods, but Francis intends to change that. In the only way he knows how. Yaoi as always ;D
1. Chapter 1

"_Que c'est beau…" _the tall blonde remarked, stopping to admire a small vase of red roses. He ran his fingers delicately over the petals, taking in their flushed pallor. He leaned forward, sampling their freshly cut fragrance, flashing the flowers a smile of appreciation. His elaborate, golden locks fell to his shoulders, grazing the delicate majesty of the vase itself.

He couldn't really help himself, throughout his life he'd naturally worshipped these plants. Roses were the chief romantic symbol of love and everything romantic in his country after all. When he'd spot a fresh batch of them, he just had to stop to admire them.

"Francis, once you're finished snorting my plants, join the rest of us in the Summit, you bloody _frog!_" the short, irritable Arthur Kirkland shouted from the end of the hallway, slamming the large door behind him.

The tall blonde stood up, bowing lightly to the roses, walking towards the Summit room. He'd lost his train of thought for the moment; he forgot he had a meeting to attend to. Not like he really wanted to attend, political matters were unromantic and _so_ unnecessary.

"Quelle tristesse…England cannot ever appreciate the aesthetic pleasure of roses…" the blonde chuckled to himself, opening the wooden door to the loud Summit room. The room was chaos as usual, his fellow Allied brethren seated around a table, shouting at the top of their lungs needlessly.

"How nice of you to join us, git." England growled, scooting his chair an extra few inches from him. "Honestly, you're such a useless country, if we needed a helpless dolt to molest everyone in the room, we could've asked Prussia to be here."

America, seated across from England, laughed aloud, his glasses slightly askew. He stood up, silencing the group. His attention momentarily diverted to China, who was loudly complaining and waving a large wok in the air.

"China, you needed something?" Alfred asked, confused at the chaos despite his calling the meeting to order.

"Get Russia the hell away from me!" China whined, raising the wok threateningly over his head. "He's asking me to be one with him, he's crazy!" he cried, swinging blindly at the large Ruski.

"What do you expect from such a barbarian, such a _homme impulsif_?" France spoke aloud, chuckling to himself. "Ivan's head over heels for you, yet he scares you with his brutish figure…"

France gulped, immediately regretting his comment. He could feel an ominous presence, a dark shadow loom from where he sat. A cold, stout pole pressed against his silky, well-tailored shirt, moving to tilt his stubbly chin upwards. "France-kun, you want me to beat that nice face of yours to a pulp with my pipe, da?" a childish voice inquired, giggling.

"N-not at all, Ivan-k-kun…" Francis stammered, trembling as the Russian nodded, walking back to his seat. England laughed aloud from his seat, he loved to see his rival in fear and knee deep in humiliation.

France always harbored a deep fear for the stronger countries among him, but the scariest by far was without a doubt Ivan Braginski. He seemed cute, alluring with his broad shoulders and childish smile, but underneath was a dark, twisted psyche shattered by the bitterness of wars past.

Alfred cleared his throat loudly, growing quickly frustrated with the lack of discipline among the group. "If you'll kindly _shut _up and take your seats, I have some news. There will be a new member joining our group."

The entire room rose to protest, it seemed they were determined to drag on the meeting as long as possible. Francis reclined in his chair, arms crossed. He smiled, shaking his head at the ignorance of his peers.

_If these fools learned to relax, they wouldn't be so argumentative…_

Alfred slammed his fist on the table, sending papers flying in his wake. The entire group hushed once more, awaiting his statement.

"We'll be having a familiar delegate among us for a little while, he desires to learn of our diverse cultures and in turn transform his country into a medley of them." America grinned, gesturing towards the oak doors. "Kiku, why don't you step in and say hello, it's been awhile since you've seen us all at once."

Francis looked up from his seat, extremely uninterested.

_Probably some idiot redneck that America picked up from no-man's-land…_

_What a waste of time…_

A rather elegantly dressed man made his way inside the room, waving meekly at the countries before him. His neat black hair draped over his onyx eyes, a light flush on his cheeks as he bowed repeatedly to the group. "I apologize for my tardiness, America-san!"

"Nevermind that. Kiku, say hello to everyone, we've missed you!" Alfred smiled, lying through his teeth. Half the people sitting at the table wanted to wring his neck, history had an ugly way of burning bridges over time.

Kiku turned to everyone, clasping his hands together. "Kon'nichiwa, watashi no namae wa, Nippon ga ari masu." He bowed repeatedly to all the countries in the room. "Good afternoon, my name is Japan."

Everyone in the room smiled thinly, Japan's shy stature quickly made the aura in the room turn sour, an awkward feeling spreading.

Francis blinked, focusing on the man in front of him. He had no idea that the visitor would be so shy, so little, so _attractive…_

He quickly found his eyes studying the Japanese man, observing his hasty, yet smooth movements with an intense stare. His skin was a milky white, smooth to the touch and his voice a dainty tenor that was a luscious dessert for the ears. Kiku preferred to speak in a quiet tone, but Francis couldn't help but imagine the Japanese man tucked away into his room with him, all alone together.

_Surely then, I'll make him use that voice of his…_

"Um….France…?" a voice roused the blonde from his thoughts.

Francis looked up quickly to see America staring at him, eyebrows raised in confusion. Japan had apparently walked around to shake hands with everyone at the Allied summit, and stopping at his seat, caught him daydreaming.

Japan stuck out his hand meekly. "Good day, um…France-kun, was it?"

Francis stood up dramatically, giving him his most devious, lustful smile. _"A pleasure to meet you, Kiku." _He purred, grasping the man's hand, kissing it lightly. "I look forward to our next encounter."

The pale man backed away, trembling slightly. America led him to the next Allied member at the table, murmuring "_Yeah…he's always like that.."_ in a hushed whisper.

France chuckled to himself, watching Japan seat himself at the table next to Russia and China.

_You'll be screaming for me soon enough, Kiku. _

_C'est une promesse, mon amant._


	2. Chapter 2

The meeting almost seemed to conclude itself; everyone in the room was absorbed with Kiku's presence. Important topics at hand had long since been abandoned, stacks of de-briefing packets left to collect dust on the Summit table.

After some small talk with the newcomer, the last of the countries cleared the Summit room, leaving America, Japan and France. Francis sat quietly, musing pensively as he kept his eyes on Kiku.

"Any idea where you'd like to visit first on your cultural expedition, Kiku?" Alfred asked, collecting his things next to the Japanese man.

"Um, I was thinking America first, then possibly Eng-"

"Great! You'll get to learn all about this hero, then!" America pointed to himself with a proud smile, patting Japan on the shoulder roughly.

"Ah. How…um…_good_." Kiku stammered, overwhelmed by Alfred's dynamic persona.

"Well, be ready in the morning. I'll see you around, have a good day, Kiku!" Alfred waved, pausing as he turned to leave. "Francis, also have a nice day, but…watch it with that behavior of yours. I'm sure you know what I mean." He remarked sternly, shutting the door behind him, leaving the two alone in the summit room.

Francis couldn't help but interject. He rose from his seat, his golden locks trailing behind him as he approached Kiku. "But why choose _America_ for your first lessons in culture? That's like learning culinary finesse from White Castle!" he urged, stepping in front of Japan. "At least visit my country for the first few hours tomorrow…"

Francis leaned close, lifting Kiku's chin with a passive hand, breathing lightly against the soft skin on his neck. The warm air caused Kiku to shiver a little.

"_You won't regret it, ma rosa tendre." _

Japan dropped all his papers to the floor abruptly, moving away from the tall blonde, backing himself into the Summit table. Not missing a beat, France followed suit, lifting Kiku onto the table.

"Aaah!" Kiku cried out in surprise, unable to react with such quick motions from the blonde.

Spreading Japan's legs, Francis lifted them up, pressing his body against Kiku's waist. "Do you feel that…Kiku-kun?" Francis purred, moving against the crotch of Japan's pants, leaning forward to nibble on his neck. Kiku gasped, his cheeks flushed beet red as he slowly felt Francis's "vital regions" press against his as the two of them ground against each other.

"See…this is just a _taste _of France, Kiku-kun…" Francis whispered, grabbing Kiku's hand so it grazed his semi-hard member. "Do you like what you've seen so far?"

Kiku pulled his hand away, slapping Francis as hard as he could muster. The blonde backed away in surprise, lifting a hand to massage his stinging cheek.

"No, I certainly don't! It's obvious why America warned me about you!" Kiku yelped, pointing a shaky finger at France. "You have no respect for the feelings of others, you're overbearing and just perverted and embarrassing!"

Francis was quiet, half listening to the Japanese man. Sure he was upset, but he hadn't anticipated him to raise a hand to him. It was shocking…yet somewhat intriguing too.

_If he's the shy type who rarely raises their voice above a quiet murmur, yet he can raise a hand to slap someone in anger…_

…_there's something underneath that polite, polished exterior…something rough...something that's just begging to come out…_

"Why on earth are you _smiling_?" Kiku exclaimed, looking like he was a second away from tears.

Francis smiled apologetically, attempting to approach the man. "Look, I may have started this on the wro-"

He lost the rest of his sentence, frozen in spot. Japan's half hysterical face was now one of fury, his onyx eyes pitch black with contempt. In mere seconds he'd drawn a long, sharp sword, the tip tickling Francis's neck.

"Step back, Francis. Keep away from me." He glared at the blonde, slowly letting himself off the table, the sword tip trained on his throat. He gathered his papers from the floor with a hasty hand, hurrying out the door without another word.

Francis sighed, collecting his things from the disheveled table. He disliked the melodramatic type. Kiku was doing so well, he hadn't protested during his little serenade…much.

"Ah well. In time he will forgive me."

_Or submit to me. Either one works fine. _

France smirked darkly at this thought, exiting the Summit room.

* * *

Kiku couldn't have run faster through the illustrious halls of the World Conference building. His feet, nestled in black dress shoes, flew like a blur past countless people. It was a shame, he wanted to introduce himself, but his mind held escaping from that perverted blonde man at top priority.

In his travels he collided with America violently, the two falling to the floor in pain. "Owww…ah hello, Kiku, enjoying your stay so far?" Alfred asked politely, wincing as he rubbed a developing bump on his brow.

"I-I'm not really sure. That Frenchman is scary!" Kiku cried, grabbing Alfred by his jacket, shaking him in fear. "He…he-"

"…tried to seduce you?" Alfred finished, rolling his eyes. "Yeah…he's not exactly the most subtle guy around."

"W-well…"

"Don't worry, I'll have a talk with him about cutting out thatromantic act of his if it makes you uncomfortable." Alfred smiled confidently. "Well, I've got to go deliver some stuff to China, then ice this bump on my head, so um, I'll c'ya round then, Japan." He walked off, slightly dazed from the impact. He disappeared into a medley of people passing through the building before Kiku could say goodbye.

Turning on his heel, Kiku decided to leave the area. His eyes scanned the halls as he sprinted, and sighting a "RESTROOM" sign, he bolted inside, cramming himself into a small cubicle-esque stall, locking it shut.

He breathed a heavy sigh, massaging his temples. He wasn't even sure what had happened. Introductions had gone so well, up until his meeting with that incorrigible blonde frenchman.

_What on earth went wrong for that to happen?_

_Is that __**normal**__ for French people?_

Kiku flinched as he recalled the event from just 10 minutes ago, where Francis had him on the table with legs wide open.

_How rude he was…some nerve of him…_

He recalled Francis's delicate ministrations, inciting a flashback of the afternoon's events.

_That warm breath against my neck, his low voice resonating in my ears, his grinding against my…mhmm.._

_Even now, I can feel his every touch.._

Kiku roused himself from his thoughts, alarmed to see what he'd done. Even thinking of the lascivious things Francis had done had aroused him. Japan cursed himself silently, unzipping his pants. He hated touching himself, it was looked upon as shameful and disrespectful to one's body and today wasn't a day he'd been hoping to start. But he felt quite excited at the moment, it was obvious he wouldn't be able to leave the bathroom stall without satisfying himself first.

Lowering a hand, he wrapped his fingers around his shaft nervously, unsure if he should continue. But there was no turning back at this point. He began to massage himself, closing his eyes, hoping he could finish quickly and get on with his day.

_I've never really done this…_

_This is so embarrassing…_

His began to slouch as his member began to pulse, his fingers teasing the slit, tracing around it.

"…hahh..aah.." Kiku bit his lip as he began to pump faster, his hand slick with pre-cum as his cock began to throb. He squinted his eyes shut, picturing himself in Francis's embrace once more, being penetrated, scratched, bitten by the blonde, his voice oozing like sugary syrup all over his quivering body.

"Mhnnnnahhh…_France-kun…_" Japan moaned, picturing Francis violating his body, stuffing his sleeve fabric into his mouth to stifle his voice. Stroking himself rhythmically, he felt his hips arch involuntarily and his member tinged a deep red. His cock pulsed painfully, and Japan took a deep breath as he pumped himself as fast as he could, warm friction enveloping his heat.

"Hahh..haahnn…AAHH!" Japan cried, his hip bucking forward one final time, squirting his seed as hard as he could.

Kiku gasped for air, clinging to the paper towel dispenser within the bathroom stall as he tried to catch his breath. He stared downwards, impressed with the amount of the milky substance on the bathroom floor.

_That's incredible…all that…from me?_

Japan shrugged, wiping the mess from the floor, flushing the paper down the toilet. Buckling his belt, he sighed in relief, his body was relaxed and ready to continue his day.

_Hopefully I can avoid that Francis…._

_Or I'll end up needing more than one trip to this room…_

He stepped out of the bathroom stall to wash his hands, smiling to himself inwardly.

* * *

Francis walked through the World Conference building with a terribly malicious smirk on his face.

_It's a good thing Kiku didn't hear the door to the restroom…._

He went on his way with a skip in his step, a clever plan forming in his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

The knapsack closed with little difficulty, which seemed somewhat surprising, seeing that Japan had packed it full of Natsu-san gel snack packs. He always remembered to pack enough for a rainy day, but he always ended up packing away enough for several monsoons in a row.

He'd arrived at the Summit room early enough to meet America for his first escapade into a new culture. Unfortunately, Alfred wasn't present as of yet, it was practically expected of America to always be late to anything. Kiku looked around the room, wincing as he caught sight of the familiar oak table he'd mounted just a day ago. Walking over to it absentmindedly, he ran his hand across the tables surface. It almost felt alive, it'd witnessed so many incidents after all, if only it could talk.

_Oh the stories a table could tell…_Kiku mused, laughing to himself.

Alfred burst in, greeting the meek Japanese man with a rough wallop on the back.

"Goooood morning, Japan! Are we ready to embark? We'll take my car, and our first stop will be Los Angeles, then we'll speed over to Manhattan, then perhaps Miami…"

Kiku smiled as he listened to Alfred chatter on ecstatically. The man barely paused to take a breath, running through his itinerary at a breakneck pace. Alfred's glasses were sliding down his nose, his hair all askew, he always looked so relaxed yet…so anxious.

"Ahem…yes. We should visit all those places as you said, America." Kiku grabbed his backpack, following Alfred out the door of the Summit room. He drowned out the American's rambling by observing the sights around him as they entered the main building of the United Nations. After all, he was still new at the World Commerce center. He saw hundreds of people dressed in formal wear from their respective cultures, bustling in groups, some outcasts. They all spoke a flurry of languages, meshing together at once in sort of a chaotic way.

Slightly overwhelmed, Kiku struggled to keep sight of the ever elusive Alfred, who ducked in and out of groups of people rudely so he could get to the parking lot. Japan bowed countless times in apology as he followed the frantic American to the parking garage.

Seating himself next to Alfred, he buckled his seatbelt, preparing himself for a bumpy ride. Japan was well aware of Alfred's recklessness as a country, and his decisions behind the wheel didn't leave much to the imagination. The man even insisted that red lights were "for jackasses dumb enough to stand in my way."

* * *

The entire day had done absolutely nothing but exhaust Kiku to no end. He was an old man after all, he couldn't handle these roughneck activities like window shopping, off roading, wakeboarding, anything like that. The two had finally agreed on a restaurant by a rather charming boardwalk in Florida, a hot spot called Mangoes. Alfred sat down, throwing his jacket at an unsuspecting waitress, and began to shove bread rolls down his throat with vigor. Japan blushed furiously, bowing profusely to the waiting staff as well. Even with his seemingly endless patience for Alfred's outbursts and antics, there was a limit. And since Kiku's back was sore from the bowing, that limit was inching closer with every second.

"Dey gawf guh breh roahs heah righ?" Alfred remarked with a grin, his mouth stuffed with the bread rolls.

"Evidently." Kiku commented, toying at his Balsamic dressed salad with a flimsy, plastic fork, his eyes unable to meet Alfred's. He'd learned a lot from America and he was grateful for the trip, but being kicked out of every eating establishment they'd visited was really unnecessary and frankly embarrassing.

Their waiter made his way to their table as slowly as possible. It was clear he wanted to avoid the American's idiotic antics as well. "What would you both like to order tonight?"

Alfred's order was earth shatteringly original. A hamburger.

Japan declined kindly, he found the icons and most of the names of the dishes on the menu to be uncleanly, unhealthy, and for the most part revolting anyway.

_No need to get food poisoning this early on the trip._

The waiter collected their menus, chastising Alfred lightly that punching the table, shouting "A HERO NEEDS A FULL STOMACH!" wasn't going to convince _anyone_ to cook his food faster.

Kiku's mind drifted off into scattered thoughts as he watched the hero act like a 7 year old. He felt a pang of regret for visiting America first. And he couldn't help but find himself imagining how the day could've been different if he'd gone to France.

_The food certainly would've been a lot more tasteful…_

_But having to deal with that intolerable pervert would be just as bad as being here…_

He scowled to himself, ashamed he'd even thought of the idea. Francis would've definitely seduced him without a doubt, and he would've been miserable and trapped in France for the extent of his stay. He shuddered at the thought, yet he couldn't lure his mind away from the possibilities of a physical encounter with the romantic pervert.

_As bad as it was…_

_I can't deny the rush it gave me, one that I rarely feel at home…_

He was roused from his thoughts as he watched the incorrigible American shout for a fourth plate of lemons from the waiting staff. Japan was tempted to excuse himself to call himself a taxi, but their waiter returned to his rescue instead. He held a small cellular phone in his hand, it was already flipped open, and someone was already on the line. "Will you accept this call?" the waiter asked, gesturing for Japan to grab the phone. Alfred was far too busy flirting with the barstaff, and he figured the phone call wouldn't take long anyway.

Kiku took the cellphone, walking out of the restaurant to the outer eatery area near the docks. At least outside there would be more peace and quiet.

"Konichiwaaa~..Kiku speaking."

"Good afternoon, Japan. How are you this evening?" A clear, crisp voice greeted Japan. He racked his brain, he couldn't really place where he'd heard the voice before.

"…if you're wondering, this is Katsuya Okada of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Japan. We wanted to ensure that your trip has been successful thus far."

Kiku gave a huge sigh of relief, a familiar voice from his homeland was comforting in times of stress…especially with America.

"Y-yes, things are going well, I'm with America today, and tomorrow I might visit England."

"Well, we've decided it's in your best interest that we issue you a delegate from our own country to supervise this trip. You _are _on foreign soil, you realize this? I don't trust all the other countries involved here."

Kiku frowned at this, he was a little disappointed he couldn't even take a trip without accompaniment and supervision from his government.

"Yes, but I am treading _lightly_ on foreign soil. The others are leading _me. _Nothing suspicious at all, it's just a cultural revolution project, and I wanted to complete it myself…" Japan found himself rambling, ashamed at arguing with a man of such high political standing over such a small matter.

"It is in your best interest. We'll be sending a small watercraft to pick you up near your current location. Don't make Alfred aware of your departure."

"At once, Okada-san." Japan nodded in complete agreement, closing the phone promptly. He couldn't help but feel guilt from leaving America without warning, but his homeland was calling him, it must've been for some reasonable cause.

He held the cell phone in the palm of his hands, the heat warming him a little against a little tropical breeze. Japan liked the beach areas of Florida, it was almost like his homeland in some respects. The ocean view could make any busy-body quite sanguine if they just spent a moment to take in the sights, after all.

Japan's attention was diverted as a small boat jetted forth to the boardwalk area, bobbing slightly in the choppy Floridian waters. The craft itself was impressive, an eggshell white hull, with a maple glazed deck, bordered by thick silver railings.

He walked down the dock towards the boat depot, confused at the sight of the intimidating craft. The waiter accompanied to retrieve the cell phone he'd lent Kiku.

Japan leaned forward to scrutinize the boat. "Why did Okada-san send such an expensive craft to escort me?" He remarked, eyeing the boat incredulously. "And who on earth will pilot it…I don't even see a captain…"

The kind waiter approached Kiku, aiding him in boarding the craft with little difficulty. As soon as his feet reached the deck, Kiku went around the boat, scouring the vehicle for Mr. Okada, or perhaps a representative to talk to. He had to share his cultural findings with someone, anyway.

A low rumble sent Kiku sprawling to the floor. The floor vibrated much like the cellphone he'd used earlier, but everything around him shook violently, the whole world felt off tilt for some reason. He wasn't really accustomed to sea travel.

Finding his bearings, Kiku managed to climb from the belly of the boat to the upper deck, where oddly enough, the Mangoes waiter stood, watching the ocean with an optimistic smile. The boat had taken off at quite a hasty speed, cutting the waters like a knife through butter.

With much effort, Japan made his way to the railing near where the waiter stood, leaning against it with all his might. "Would y-you happen to know where we're headed now?"

"Not really." The waiter answered shortly, he was far too preoccupied with the breeze of the waters to care about what Kiku had to say. "I'm the captain of this boat, as so it happens, yet I know nothing of it's destination."

"W-well, I hope there'll be calmer waters wherever we're headed." Japan murmured weakly, feeling his face tinge a sick green. "I'm growing quite ill. I may need to rest in a cabin." he turned away slowly, desperate to find a place to lie down.

A large hand reached out to restrain Kiku.

"You may use mine if you'd like." The captain commented, slowing the boat to a complete stop. "Hmm…that should about do it."

"Are you s-sure we can stop the boat? Mr. Okada might need me to report home at onc-"

The captain leaned the uneasy Japanese man onto a soft cot in the Captain's quarters, ordering him to lie flat.

"No need to worry about Okada, or whatever." the captain retorted, a hint of alacrity in his voice.

"What? But.." Japan protested loudly, feeling the nausea fade, his strength slowly returning.

The captain approached Kiku, removing his shirt slowly, careful not to muss the man's clean cut hairstyle.

"WH!"

Japan was silenced by a swift movement, a crushing of warm lips against his. He was startled for the time being, unable to move or react. He pulled away finally, his face pale with shock.

"That was quite uncalled for, sir!" Japan shouted, unable to control a dark blush shading his cheeks. He rubbed his chin sorely. "How unexpected, rude and…rough…" Japan stammered.

"Abrasive, yet…_melted on your lips like an exquisite dish that teases the palate_?" The captain asked smugly, he'd distanced himself, turned away from the startled Kiku.

"Ah…wait!" Kiku demanded. "Why…why did you back away so quickly after you kissed me?" His heart raced, he began to panic, his mind slowly coming to the realization.

"You…you _knew_ that I'd try to hit you after you kissed me, didn't you?" Kiku barked, sitting up rapidly, his eyes widening.

The captain laughed uproariously. "Oui, Japan. You certainly captures a assez rapide, don't you?"

Japan froze, shuddering at his grave mistake.

_The irony of it all, I never bothered to question the phone call…_

_I never even told Alfred where I was headed…_

"T-there's nothing you can do, Francis, let me go!" Japan stammered, his confidence waning quick.

"En fait, there is." Francis turned around, quickly tearing off his guise, tacky mariner clothes falling in tatters to the ground. Underneath was a dark pinstripe suit, an elegant rose tucked into the breastpocket.

"If you bothered to check, we're miles into the Intracoastal waterway. Which means, my dear prisonnier de l'amour, that for your next cultural lesson, with no one in sight to interrupt us, you'll be with me."


End file.
